<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I Found by crimsonadvent</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25127878">I Found</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonadvent/pseuds/crimsonadvent'>crimsonadvent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>D.Gray-man</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Liquor, M/M, Song fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:55:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25127878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonadvent/pseuds/crimsonadvent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I Found by Amber Run</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lavi/Tyki Mikk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Found</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The swirls of the cigarette fill the daybreak air, his dark eyes focused on the curls of smoke. Hypnotized.</p><p>"I thought you'd stop doing that."</p><p>He turns to the owner of the voice, redhead and smirking as he holds a bottle of whiskey by its neck. He presses the cigar against his dark lips, taking one long drag before crossing the distance between them.</p><p>"Just a little stressed today."</p><p>He takes the loveseat, draping one long leg over a bent knee; another drag before he exhales the smoke above him, the cloud of nicotine ashening his dark looks.</p><p>A hand swats at his long locks, not painful, no; that was never in the Bookman's vocabulary. "Stop that." The green-eyed man scolds and he lets out a dry chuckle before bending towards the coffee table and snubbing what more was left of the tobacco.</p><p>"Seriously, you could do without that. Wasn't drinking enough to sort out any of this 'stress' you're feeling?" He hears the distinct sound of glass on hardwood, the clink of ice against the container as his companion uncorks the whiskey. The heady scent of the aged liquor filling the room. It was a good rival to the smoke.</p><p>"Mm, that certainly smells good." The words slip out from his lips as he tilts his head to the bar, the smaller man filling two glasses with the amber liquid. He watches the manner of deft hands, circling the half-filled glasses, the liquor sloshing along the walls of the glass but never spilling. It took some skill.</p><p>Padded footsteps break his reverie as a hand offers him one glass, he could smell how alcoholic it was. Perhaps a few glasses and he’d be utterly debauched, but that was the plan right?  He swirls the liquid, there was less finesse in his actions. He tips his head, letting the hot burn of the liquor trickle down his throat.</p><p>“Whoa, not so fast. Haven’t you heard of scotch on the rocks?” The man across him chuckles and he coughs lightly at the dryness. It would take some time to get used to.</p><p>“It’s not bourbon this time? You could have warned me.”</p><p>“How would I have expected you’d drink all of it in one go. Really, Mikk. You have to hold yourself back.” He shakes his head, red hair falling over the distinct blackness of the eye-patch on his pale skin.</p><p>“You know, I could never be dealt with limits when you’re around.” He swallows thickly.</p><p>The redhead is silent, taking a swig of the liquor before he stands, erasing the distance. Settling down on the empty space at the side, he feels warm, far too warm, too familiar, with the crisp scent of sunshine.</p><p>“Of course, what would we be if we followed our limits?” There was a meaning in those words, in that gaze, in that mouth that’s pressed together in deep thought.</p><p>They never cared about limits.</p><p>It’s also why he pulled Lavi, flushed against his waiting lips.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>